


Ticklish

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, BDSM, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Manipulation, Mind Games, Power Imbalance, Submission, Unhealthy Obsessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-16 07:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17545715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: A few more gentle torments in the grand scheme of Mitsuhide's ultimate punishment.





	Ticklish

Matsunaga looked down at the results of his work, clasping his hands behind his back as he paced around the mat like a stalking tiger, tensed and ready for the final killing blow, his prey compliant and beaten and bloody, each heartbeat bringing the poor creature closer to death. Mitsuhide himself felt awfully similar to such a creature now, lying flat on his back, the air cold on his bare skin, the blindfold tight over his eyes. The ropes were tangled in his hair and the bruises on the backs of his legs still ached in a way that wasn’t at _all_ pleasurable – he didn’t deserve to feel pleasure from his due punishment.

Raising a single eyebrow at his strangely compliant (broken?) little treasure, Matsunaga brought out the feather, long and wispy, from behind his back, and like a calligrapher with their brush he began to trace elaborate patterns over his pale, shaking canvas. 

Morbidly lovely. The way his jutting ribs heaved with every one of his shallow breaths the way he’d bite his dried lips (he’d been neglecting himself, disobedient creature) the way that he arched his back off of the mat and squirmed about, both trying to get away and to pull himself closer. 

“There now. Settle down.” 

The breathing slowed, he could see those pale fingers curling inwards, digging bloody crescents into cracked palms and marveled once more at the patience that he had put into this masterpiece. So many of his creations had torn their way through to their own destruction, and yet he had never seen one as this, he had never seen one of his poor pitiful creatures come crawling to him on their hands and knees, teary-eyed and desperate, any shred of sanity having long since disappeared.

“Do you want this?”

Did he, though? So confused, he couldn’t even properly answer, did he shake his head, did he plead, did he scream for his release? What was right, and what was just, and what was a true monster such as he supposed to do in order to earn the affection that he so desperately craved, that he wanted, that he would never be worthy of? Matsunaga had promised him all of this.

He chased it blindly, knowing that it would never come, the feather moving over the base of his ribcage, down his navel in a slow, steady line, over the his painfully sharp hip-bones, he could feel every bit of it, reminding him of his permanent form, that he was here and safe in a place that time did not exist and how he _wanted_ time to never exist, because then Honno-ji would be nothing more than a figment. Then he would be a little less of a failure, maybe he could be human this time around. Human and everlasting and unafraid.

How beautiful that would be. How unattainable. The feather made his way over his lips and he mouthed at it desperately, hearing Matsunaga click his tongue over him – he was shaking his head in that way that he did, the way that was both endearing, but with the promise of more punishment to come – you are a work in progress my masterpiece, you will be built again. A promise that was only half full. He reached for it anyways, craved for the now spit-soaked feather to be replaced by firm, punishing lips. Punishment that he both deserved _and_ would happily accept – it worked out in every way.

But it seemed that he would be deprived even of this, and with a single brush of wickedly spiked gloves over his forehead, the blindfold was released, and he was wordlessly dismissed. Put away. There was no use left for him, as he had apparently shown.

He would simply have to work harder. Yes, that was it. 

Next time, Mitsuhide would show his gracious keeper that he had not yet run out of worth.


End file.
